


A Boy Who Thinks He Can

by Edwardina



Category: Glee
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, Kink Meme, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:45:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glee kink meme fill. Sam and Unique are dating. They're really into each other but Unique is not ready to let Sam see or touch her below the belt.  One day they're grinding and Unique comes, and she's super embarrassed, but Sam is turned on by it.  Unique gets him off for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Boy Who Thinks He Can

**Author's Note:**

> [Glee kink meme fill](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/45450.html?thread=61810314#t61810314). This is pretty much an AU that takes place sometime post-505. As requested, there is no sense of Sam having a crisis about being with a trans woman. I've had a weird soft spot for Sam/Unique since they were going to be Kenickie and Rizzo in _Grease_. Title from "Too Much" by the Spice Girls.

The thing about Unique is that underneath the wigs, lip gloss, chunky jewelry, brassy belting, and the way she refers to herself in the third person, she's actually the sweetest girl Sam's ever met.

She's sweeter than Nurse Penny, who was pretty much cotton candy personified. Sweeter than Marley, the girl everyone thinks is the kindest and most sensitive person in New Directions. She's even sweeter than Mercedes, who was secretly super-romantic and receptive when she wasn't teasing him and they were all alone together. She's different than all those girls, but it's not because of her body. It's hard to explain, but it's like she's got a hard candy coating that hides a fluffy, soft marshmallow core that can collapse and deflate if carelessly bitten into. It's best to slowly melt her in your mouth. If only Sam could get that far.

Unique is... gosh. Inexperienced would be one word. Innocent would be another. It's not that she's totally clueless or childish or anything like that. She's worldly and aware and plugged into pop culture in ways Sam will never be. It's just that Sam is her first everything. He's her first kiss. Her first boyfriend. She looks at him like he's the only guy in the world and touches him as if he's valuable and hasn't exposed himself constantly in strip clubs, calendars, high-concept Lady Gaga performances, and high-budget Katy Perry numbers. Her hands may be a bit big, but they're timid, tender, and in their gentleness, womanly. They roam his bare chest with reverence, like she can't believe what she's feeling.

She's letting him touch her again today, too – over the shirt, but still, it's a huge score. It feels so good to have permission to do this, Sam wants to come apart at the seams.

Making out all rushed in the single-stalled faculty bathroom after glee isn't their usual by any stretch. Their usual is much slower, occasionally because one of them is a tad uncertain, but mostly just because they both crave the romance of good night kisses that start soft and grow deeper.

Sometimes it's in the front seat of Sam's truck. Sometimes it's by Unique's front door, moths flittering around the porch light above their heads, Unique's parents waiting just inside, her dad having to keep her mom from peering out the blinds at them. A couple of times, it's even been in Unique's bed while her vigilant parents were out on a dinner date and Sam is absolutely not supposed to be in their house, let alone laying side-by-side with her – or, well, leaning over her as much as she'll let him, kissing her deep and gently stroking her arm and side.

The second time she'd successfully sneaked him in, she'd let him cup her breast, with some tense caution bating her breath. It was through a padded bra, but there was still enough flesh underneath to excite Sam to a boiling point, and when she'd felt him hard against her thigh, her tiny giggle of disbelief had made Sam pause, panting gently in a parted kiss.

In that moment, he realized that, um, technically, Unique was not really feeling a dude's erection for the first time. He knew that, sorta. In a way. But it still felt so much like it was something new to her, something that had totally surprised her, he'd wondered hectically if he'd crossed a line. They were taking everything so gradually, wanting each other to be comfortable, and he was still learning her boundaries.

"Oh my god," she'd whispered, in her little innocent voice. There was no trace of sass.

"Sorry," Sam whispered back, guarded. His hand was still on her boob. "I mean, I, uh. Can't really control it."

"No, it's... amazing," she replied. Now her voice was excited. "I love that you can't control it."

"Wow. You're pretty amazing, too," Sam told her. Such words were utterly thrilling. It sounded an awful lot like she was saying she loved his hard dick! "Do you, um. Do you like my hand here, or?"

"Yes," she admitted. "You can squeeze harder if you want. So I can really feel it."

So he had, and Unique had moaned for him, her hips edging up off the mattress. Her generous thigh rubbed Sam through his jeans in the process, but all too soon, she'd stopped him, saying she thought they'd better cool off and get him out of there before her parents got home.

Both breathing hard, they'd hastily righted their somewhat crooked clothes so Sam could get out of the house with a good, safe twenty minutes to spare. Sam definitely did not want to be caught, especially when he was working hard to prove to Unique's parents that he was a good guy they could trust, and not when things were so, like, weirdly good between him and Unique.

Of course, he wanted – still wants – so much more. Keeping his foot on the break is something he can do, but actually having to stomp on the breaks sometimes is a little hard on any guy. But Sam gets it. There are hang-ups she has. She's different in a way. But the hang-ups to him aren't so different than the ones any of his other girlfriends had. Unique doesn't want to sit on his lap (neither did Mercedes), nor does she want him on top of her (not unlike Quinn). He can only pick her up if he asks and she gives him the O-K, and that has not happened yet. But he's used to playing by girls' rules. He can have a lot of patience, since she'd had so much with him when they'd started hanging out one-on-one and he still slipped up every now and then, both ignorant and unthinking, with his pronouns that wanted to change depending on what she was wearing, and his general propensity for calling all his friends "dude." He's still learning.

At school, there are precious few places to kiss, let alone get handsy. The Skanks hang out under the bleachers, smoking. The boys' room makes Unique incredibly uncomfortable, but the girls' room doesn't feel safe to her, either, especially with chicks like Bree coming in and out after Cheerios practice and getting their kickpants in a wad if they see what they totally think of as two pairs of guys' feet in a stall, even if one of them is wearing chunky wedges. Behind the school, it's too crowded, even after hours; teachers slowly trickle out of the building, people who had after-school activities and meetings mill around in the parking lot just playing hacky-sack or standing around gossiping, and jocks come back there to toss nerds in the smelly cafeteria dumpster. Unique's so shy, she really can't cut loose with him in front of other people yet. She's just a junior and there's always the threat of being slushied to worry about. And Sam knows she sees the dumpster and clams up, some part of her afraid of being picked up and thrown in even though he doubts anyone would want to try and go through him. He'll be graduating pretty soon, and won't be there to be her bodyguard.

The faculty bathroom is perfect, though. At this point, Mr. Schue's gotten tired of escorting Unique there, of standing around awkwardly, waiting for her. He just gives her his key, and she always returns it with sincere gratitude, so he totally trusts her to go it alone. After school, there really aren't any faculty clamoring for use of it. Still, it only gives them a window of about ten or fifteen minutes – but that's way better than nothing. Especially when he really wants to be all up on her.

Today, Unique's in a skirt that's shorter than Sam's used to seeing on her, so he definitely wants to be all up on her; he's been waiting since glimpsing the change she made after school from a pair of neon capris. She's wearing heels, too, and her legs are smooth as silk, and she's slid one around the back of Sam's calf, and she's thrusting her chest at him so he can feel her up through her soft, silky blouse. For Unique, this kind of brazenness is pretty close to NC-17. She usually pins her knees together if Sam's hand finds her thigh.

On the other hand, Unique is not shy at all when it comes to Sam's chest. She popped the snaps on his Western-style plaid shirt open about two seconds after he shut the door behind him, joining her in the cramped stall, and her elegant hands are caressing his naked shoulder blades now. They are a little bigger than he's used to, but surprisingly, that just feels amazing. They cover and touch more skin and make him feel so touched, so coveted. When she curls her fingers, her nails drag softly on his skin, and it makes him shiver.

Feeling her permissiveness, Sam gets his tongue in her mouth, and she makes a high-pitched noise that sounds like he is completely ravishing her, and he can't help groaning back. His hands are sliding all over that silk blouse, and through absolutely no fault of his own, one of the buttons slips from its hole, opening up a little gap that his thumb slides into. That's how he discovers the skin of her chest is just as silky-smooth as the skin of her legs.

When Unique realizes her blouse has busted open, she stiffens for a second, a pluck of tension obviously going through her.

"Sorry," Sam whispers automatically. "It just came loose, I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay," she says quickly, her hands sliding from his back. To his surprise, after a moment of hesitation, she reaches up and quickly undoes the rest of the buttons, all the way to where the blouse is tucked into her form-hugging little hot pink skirt.

"Ohh my gosh," escapes him, and she slowly pulls her blouse open, revealing a shockingly cute lacy bra. It's black with a bright pink ribbon that actually matches the skirt, the dark material of the satin and lace making her brown skin look so rich and creamy and tempting.

"Squeeze me," she beckons – it's the sexiest thing Sam's ever heard. He gropes her chest with both hands, feeling the reluctant give of benign cotton padding filling the generous cups of the bra, but also, underneath that, giving flesh that he recognizes anywhere. He bets anything Unique's boobs are actually bigger than Brittany's under there. She is pretty, like... buxom. With enough pressure, Unique's head gently thumps back against the beige stall and a sigh gusts from her lips, so he knows she likes his eagerness, at least. The padding is too thick, though, for him to feel the points of her nipples... if they're even stiff... 

Focusing up, he moves his thumbs over the cups softly, trying his best to feel them out, his hips slouching into hers. His cock has gone from perked to heavy and full, and she gasps when she feels it against her pelvis.

"Sam," Unique whispers plaintively.

"Is that good?" he asks her.

"It's beyond good," she says, grasping at his hips – which makes him bend into her even further. Her knee hikes up to his hip. "Oh. Yes. Sexy boy. Grind on me. I wanna feel you."

Electric with arousal, Sam swivels his hips, and that's when he realizes that the bulge of his fly is nudging up under his girlfriend's skirt. Suddenly this is so much more than he's used to happening between them. He almost stops, since this seems like it crosses her boundary about not being on top of her, but her hands are grabbing his hips so thoroughly they're also pretty much grabbing his ass.

"Ah – Unique," he puffs weakly. He grabs her back, crushing her breasts in his hands till their cleavage is Victoria's Secret Angel major, twisting his hard-on into her and – finally, it seems like – feeling what she's got hiding under there. A bulge. He always knew it, so it's not a shock, but it _is_ a shock that she's not pushing him away from her shyly, saying, _Oh, Sam – no. I'm. I'm not... you don't want that..._ and folding in on herself, uncertain.

Maybe he really is just one hundred percent used to thinking of her strictly as a girl now, even though she sometimes shows up to school looking miserably packed into dour sweater vests and jeans, missing her earrings and self-consciously touching her short hair. He knows the name on her driver's license is Wade. But it's kinda hard for him to actually imagine her with a dick. Even though it's nudging against his, for real, right then. She just feels like a girl to him. In his mind, that bulge doesn't compute as anything other than a sensitive mound he can grind on, push his hard-on against. And she not only lets him, but squeaks tremulously, holding onto him tightly with both hands and one leg.

"Sam, oh, god," she whispers fiercely, her eyes closed.

They are totally dry-humping.

Sam doesn't know what base humping actually is, but it has got to be way past tentative second. The grinding motion is so familiar and instinctive and sex-tinged, danger wells up in him embarrassingly fast. He's long since lost his White Chocolate edge; he used to be able to body roll and pump his hips to a thumping beat without worrying about even popping a boner. But it's impossible to summon that stripper disconnect now.

"Baby girl," he manages, stilling himself with superhuman strength that should definitely be added to his list of powers in his superhero club, "I – I gotta stop, or I'm –"

"I'm sorry," is all Unique says, and grimaces. The whole expression is one of pain, which is all too familiar to see on her.

"Baby," he repeats. The catch in his chest tells him he totally screwed this up. His hands gentle considerably and drop to her ribs. "Hey, hey. Is it... did I move too fast?"

"It's not you," she manages. "It's me. I am so, so sorry. Please, can you..."

"What?" he asks, alarmed. "What can I do?"

"Um. I don't want to mess up my skirt, so I can't pull it back down yet," she says in a terribly small voice. "Can you... get me some toilet paper?"

Automatically, Sam reaches over to the dispenser on the wall, but he his eyes somehow still manage to catch on the absolutely insane sight of the crotch of her lace panties – and the pearly white shine he can see creeping out the elastic leg hole of the thigh she still has wrapped around him. Like her skirt, they're hot pink, and super tight-looking. Not that he's trying hard to look. With urgent hands, he tears out lots of toilet paper for her, his brain slowly piecing together the fact that he totally made her come, surprise ringing in his entire body but particularly resounding in his guts.

"Thanks," she whispers, obviously trying not to cry as she takes the awkward wad of tissue from him.

"Of course. Don't want your skirt to get sticky," he says, trying to sound as normal and casual as possible, even though it feels like there's steam coming out his ears. "Can I, ah, help clean you up?"

"That's... that's okay."

Sam puts his hands on her hips, trying to give her a steadied feeling, but it's hard when the whole room feels like the Shake Shack from _Grease_ and he's trying to internally pump breaks that aren't particularly responsive in the wake of all that. Unique just stares down at the toilet paper in her hands for a few long seconds.

"I'm sorry," she finally manages, "but if you're not running for the hills, can you at least shut your eyes or something?"

An exhale winds its way out of Sam's thrumming chest.

"Yeah, sure. If you want me to, I will, totally. But, like... Unique. I'm not going to run for the hills. I was half a second away from creaming my panties, too."

She very nearly flinches – he can feel it. She's expecting him to say something she doesn't want to hear. But instead, the tension of her body just plateaus, and the breath she lets out is shaped like a little laugh.

"Are you sure I can't help you?" he coaxes.

"Mm, I'm sure. I appreciate it. I do. But I'm just – not really ready for you, or anyone, to... help."

"Okay," says Sam, giving her a crooked smile. He leans in, and she lets him give her a little kiss on the mouth. When he leans back again, he lets his eyelids drop and adds, "There. Eyes closed. See? I'll just have to imagine what you're doing instead. Maybe... pulling aside your hot pink panties? They're all slick inside. Slippery. I got you all wet for me, didn't I?"

"You peeked, didn't you," she says archly. "I'm gonna smack you with a cutlet."

"No! I didn't. Not now, anyway. I did catch a little peek before. And you're not wearing any cutlets. I can tell. That's all you, baby."

She blows out a breath. With his eyes closed, Sam can't exactly tell whether it's an annoyed or impressed breath, but her leg's still twined around him, so he daringly shifts one hand to rub at her bare thigh. It's closest he's come to feeling any kind of forbidden naked skin. Her thigh is bountiful but muscular.

"You're wiping off all the come clinging to your panties," he murmurs, continuing with his little fantasy. "But they're totally ruined."

"You are a dirty boy," she murmurs. "And you are still completely... at attention."

Sam grins sheepishly. "Don't know why you're surprised. You're all wrapped around me and I feel your hand between your legs. If you're not careful, I'll totally lose my cool, and then your panties will really be soaked."

"Bet a dirty boy like you would love to come on a pair of lacy panties," she says, coquettish.

"I can't say I would mind, since I like the sight of yours on them so much," he admits, even though the idea of nutting in his jeans is humiliating. He's really gotta grope for the emergency break.

Out of nowhere, Unique's hand is on his, pulling it from her thigh – but the touch isn't impatient, shoving him away from her. As always, Unique's hand is elegant and smooth, and she draws his hand between them. It occurs to Sam a split second before he's touching damp lace with blind fingertips that she's not just rearranging him, but guiding him, and he sucks in an aroused gasp, fingers sliding over what he guesses are balls. They're heavy, the curve of them hot, crowded into little panties that seem to be only just containing them. But he barely brushes them before she drags his fingertips to what feels like bare skin. It's wet.

She allows him to caress a hot crease where skin meets elastic and lace for a few seconds, which seem both achingly long and all too short. Then she lets him go abruptly and drops her leg, pulling her skirt down.

Without even thinking about it, Sam's lifting his fingers to his nose, getting a whiff of bitter but intriguingly different come. Something about the feel and smell of it is too similar to deny; he couldn't pretend it's anything other than jizz. But once again, his brain rejects the concept automatically, and he plunges his fingers into his mouth, wanting everything she'll give him. Sucking them clean is just like getting a tease of taste.

"Hmm," he lets out in a near-moan. His gut twists, then tightens even worse when he realizes that it's all he's going to get for now. It's likely their fifteen minutes is up.

"Sam..." Unique begins uncertainly.

"Mm?" he asks, fingers in his mouth.

She takes a deep breath. "Is it okay if I touch you? If it's unfair or something, I get it –"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, it's not unfair. I, uh, like it when you touch me. Just... I really might unload in my jeans," he says, feeling his lip curl a little. It's vulnerable to be so honest.

"So unzip your jeans, hot shot," she responds breathily.

Again, Sam's limbs move faster than his brain does; he's only processing what's happening after his belt is already undone and his jeans are actually coming open, slouching looser around his waist. Seriously? She's going to touch him? With his eyes closed, he doesn't see it coming, but as her fingers slide right into his jeans and cup the hang of his cock, Sam seriously almost loses it. His balls lift in warning, and he takes in a sharp breath, trying to stomp or pull on any kind of internal mechanism he can find to keep himself at bay.

Daintily, she draws open the y-front of his boxer-briefs, and Sam absolutely cannot keep his eyes shut any longer. He has to stare down, still focusing, as Unique's long fingers manage to pull him out of his underwear, moving with a certain ease most girls don't have but a ginger nervousness that is so totally sweet, his skin practically goes up in flames. She holds him between them with a sense of amazement, just looking at him. It's really like she's never seen a dick before. He bets, at least, that Unique hasn't seen one so hard up close and personal like this... that she's never touched a guy like this.

In offering, he eases his hips forward, thrusting himself in the light ring of her fingers.

For a split second, her fingers twitch and lift from him, like she didn't expect any of that at all. They return after a beat, though, brave.

She doesn't say anything, only tracing him up to the tip and down again with the most reverent touch he's ever experienced. Her eyes are focused on his shaft and her mouth is open around disbelieving breaths – just like his.

"You can... touch harder, if you want," he pants awkwardly, trying not to just totally hump her hand. Right then it is seriously hard to believe she has ever touched this kind of equipment. He remembers what she said the first time he touched her boob and adds with a fond smile, "Really make me feel it."

Her grip encloses him deliberately, warm and as big as his. "Like this?"

"Uh – yeah, exactly," Sam sighs.

"It's so big," Unique says. She sounds so serious that Sam flat-out groans. Her voice turns pleased and coy. "Oh, is that good, sexy boy? Unique got you all ready to bust?"

Her thumb swipes over his slit.

"Ohmygoshbaby," rushes out of Sam's lungs.

His load is shooting out of him right then and there; he can't even warn her. He just erupts in her hand, his jizz showing up stark and bright on the back of her knuckles.

She exclaims, "Holy mother of –" and thrusts his knob up against his abs, and he unloads right up them, creaming his own stomach in addition to her fingers. Some of his come rolls right down his belly to soak into the waistband of his underwear, and some slides down the heel of her hand, and he knows he totally surprised her and she doesn't know what to do with him. After three or four strong pulses, the eruption begins to wane, and her fingers tighten and slide around his aching, twitching shaft. Sam's balls jerk desperately, trying to pump out even more come.

"Baby," he gasps mindlessly, "baby, ohmygod."

"Do not make me quote Beyoncé to you in this tender moment," she says, a divalicious note of demand in her voice.

Knowing exactly what she means by that, Sam changes his tune instantly. " _Unique._ "

"Thank you," she says, her voice once again soft and shy.

Sam gasps softly as her fingers slide up and down his cock, getting to know him even as he throbs, oversensitive, and softens slowly under the attention. But he wouldn't dream of asking her to stop, even if he's about to start reflexively kicking his leg like a dog whose sweet spot is getting tickled.

"That –" he starts, but as the words rise in his brain, the fact almost overwhelms him. She's holding his cock, hand wet with his load, and her expression is too distant and veiled for him to read. She actually just gave him a hand job. Sure, it was, like, super brief, and Unique is totally a fireball when she wants to be, a powerhouse, a force of nature. But at the end of the day, he knows how shy she can be when it comes to her body and the idea of sex... stuff a lot of girls are shy about. He takes a couple of seconds to start again. "That was – awesome."

"Yeah," she says, high-pitched. "It was."

"Not... too much, or anything?" Sam asks, stroking her arm.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replies, looking at him carefully.

Sam smiles at her. "It's not too much for me, Unique. It'll never be too much for me."

After a pause, she says, "Okay, Sam. I believe you. But no, you still cannot pick me up and carry me around."

"No? Not even when we get married and it's time for me to carry you over the threshold?" he asks, tucking his arms around her waist and pulling her from her lean against the stall. She puts a firm hand on his shoulder before he can get much closer.

"Honey child, you best contain yourself. If you stain my skirt, you are taking it to the dry cleaner's!"

"Oh, my bad. Y'know, technically, I think this counts as helping you clean up," Sam declares happily, reaching for the toilet paper again. Unique giggles.


End file.
